


Shopping in Diagon Alley

by Radella_Hardwick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6231733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radella_Hardwick/pseuds/Radella_Hardwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot/excerpt</p><p>I've been writing Serafina Warner's story for years and, now, I've decided to rework it as an original work, so I can't have her visit Diagon Alley. However, I've spent so much on this chapter that I wanted to share it with an audience.</p><p>So, herein, Professor Sinistra takes a new half-blood student shopping the summer before her first year at Hogwarts.<br/>Enter in and meet a new cast of Hogwarts inhabitants. Set in 2007</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shopping in Diagon Alley

Aurora was in high dudgeon when she finally made it into breakfast on Wednesday morning. Most of her colleagues took one look at her and decided against greeting her but the headmaster gave a shy wave.

"Good morning, Sinistra," boomed Fudge with that blithe smile which Aurora still found oddly reminiscent of Dumbledore. She answered the headmaster with a sharp nod, her eyes narrowed.

"Are you alright, Aurora?" asked Filius from the other side of her empty seat.

"She is fine," interjected Headmaster Fudge. "She just has to take one of our new students shopping." Aurora sat down and pulled the chocolate-pot towards her.

"I know you're not fond of shopping, Aurora, but that doesn't explain your distemper," pursued Filius.

"We will be required to take Knight Bus," she explained. Her mood was made worse by finding that the bammies the house-elves made exclusively for her had gone soggy due to her lateness to the table.

"And the jolting does not agree with you, does it, Sinistra?" prompted Fudge with a superior smile.

"No and I couldn't find acupressure band." Aurora dismissed the rapeseed honey in favour of the jar of thicker molasses.

"And you tried summoning it?" enquired Filius, who always assumed that those of his colleagues who did not teach wand-based subjects would not think to use charms. Aurora tossed him a tired glare before taking a bite of bammy. "How strange! So, my dear, where are you going? To pick up the student, I mean."

"Cheltenham," Fudge answered for her, finishing off his Assam. "Serafina Warner, isn't it?" Aurora nodded, her mouth full.

"Not Millie Calvert's girl?" squeaked Filius, pleasure evident in every crease of his face. Aurora frowned but the headmaster nodded solemnly.

"Yes, the records do say it was Augusta Harriet Bellatrix Millicent Calvert who registered Miss Warner with Hogwarts."

"Dear child," sighed Filius. "She must have been 6 when her mother died." Fudge and Aurora nodded. Millicent Calvert was one of Aurora's heroes; she had been an author of popular books about magical theory, one of which had been on the school's syllabus for almost a decade. So, Aurora was rather excited to see what her daughter could do. "And that terrible muggle husband of hers wouldn't let her family see the girl," lamented Filius. "Poor Lucretius! He died, you know, not 18 months later. He doted on Millie."

"She is having brothers and sisters, no?" frowned Aurora, the image of an old newspaper photograph coming to mind.

"Only one of each. Must be that muggle has stopped them visiting too, if you're taking her shopping," mused the doddering, old fool.

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me; there has been no activity in her Gringotts' account for as long as I've been administering it," the headmaster told them in a tone of self-importance.

"Which is reminding me, Headmaster Fudge. Do you have key for this account of hers?" Aurora inquired as politely as possible.

"Ah, yes!" Fudge clapped his hands to rid them of icing sugar before reaching into an inside pocket of his bottle-green robes and extracting two keys. The one he handed to Aurora was blackened with age and looked like it had been formed during the Bronze Age. "Morris!" The young Transfiguration teacher raised his head from the intent conversation he was having with Horace Cauldwell.

"Yes, sir?" he beamed as though the interruption was perfectly convivial.

"I have the key to the scholarship vault here." Professor Morris reached across and took the long, slim piece of polished silver.

"I have never seen a key quite like this," Aurora murmured, turning the object over and exploring it with her finger-tips.

"Yes, Miss Warner's account is one of the most ancient. Older even than the Black account," the headmaster told her proudly.

"Which of this year's scholarship boys are you accompanying, Professor Morris?" asked Filius, turning to the much younger man.

"Ryder Ryder," answered the Transfiguration professor, his smile having turned tired. He had obviously given up on reminding the older teachers that there were girls who received scholarship money too.

"Muggle-born," Fudge told his Charms professor in a tone that suggested this one word explained everything, which of course it did. Despite her late arrival, Aurora was one of the first to leave the table. She went directly to the school gates and apparated to Cheltenham.

 

She found herself in a back alley with pot-holes in the tarmac and bins next to every back gate. After checking with her wand, Aurora set off towards the north end of the alley and turned left. The dilapidated gentility of the red-brick terraces were depressing to a witch who was used to the majesty of Hogwarts or the comfort of a 300-year-old stone cottage in the south of France. The white-washed public house on the opposite corner looked dead and the deputy-headmistress was further disgruntled by the fact there was a blue bus stopped in front of the house for which she was heading. Finally, however, all the passengers had dispersed and she could enter the courtyard in front of the Warner home. It was equally dilapidated as the others around it with blue Victorian brick-work around the windows. The only new thing about the scene was the gleaming silver car with a blue and white badge on the bonnet. The deputy-headmistress crossed the tarmacked courtyard and mounted the three worn steps to the blue front-door, so she could knock. The man who opened the door was enough to make Aurora wrinkle her nose. He was short – his eyes were on a level with her nose – and his stomach sloped down to a ring of fat that hung over his belt. The look in his narrow eyes recalled to her mind all Filius' comments about the hatred of Millie Calvert's husband for wizards.

“Who are you?” the man demanded, his eyes lingering on her hat and cloak with suspicion.

“The Professor Aurora Sinistra. I see your daughter has not told you that I was to come this morning.”

“What's she got to do with bloody anything?" he retorted, hotly. A thin young woman stepped into the doorway that was just to her left and Aurora wondered if this was the bull-necked muggle's second wife; she did look appropriately terrorised. Drawing her attention back to the unpleasantly flushed man in front of her, Aurora began to explain her purpose in visiting.

“Serafina is to attend the school at which I teach from September.”

“ _Really_? I don't remember enrolling her at a new school.”

“Her name was registered with us by your late wife. Please allow–“ Aurora explained and tried to step across the threshold. To the lady's shock and horror, this bull-like muggle took a stride towards her, so she had to step backwards or be forced into physical contact.

“She's already at Howell's School; she doesn't need to go anywhere else.” Aurora was disgusted to notice that there was froth pooling at the corners of this man's mouth; he really was the most revolting person she had ever encountered.

“My dear sir,” began the woman, obviously struggling to restrain from breaking forth in anger. “Your daughter is a witch, whatever you might wish.” Thomas recoiled as though she had hit him but she pressed on without giving him a chance to muster a retort. “And, if she takes after her mother, she will be a formidably intelligent one. My school is the _only_ one in the country that can teach her–“

“I _will_ not allow my daughter–“

“Dad- _dee_!” interrupted Alene, bounding out of the lounge. “Who's this?” she asked, her head on one side.

“She is the deputy headmistress of my new school.” Aurora was surprised to find that it was the thin young woman lurking in the doorway who had spoken. Serafina, as the teacher assumed she must be, now stepped fully into the corridor and smiled at the younger girl.

“Are you going away to ' _nother_ new school?” asked her little sister in her baby-voice. “Why are you so naughty, Sera?” The elder girl exhaled heavily through her nose.

“It's not like that, Alene. Professor Sinistra's school is better at different things than my last school.” The 5-year-old nodded, already bored.

“Daddy, the TV's gone all swirly again.” The girls' father nodded and then he shot a speculative look at the visitor.

“You might as well come sodding well in,” he conceded, grudgingly, and stepped back from the front-door. The teacher smiled and graciously crossed the threshold, and the whole company went into the lounge. The TV screen was, indeed, only showing snow but Thomas soon discovered that his younger daughter had simply flipped onto AV by accident. Once CBeebies was back, Thomas turned to the intruder and addressed her in a voice lowered so as not interrupt Alene's viewing of the TV. “Even if my daughter _were_ to be starting at this school of yours in September, what are you doing in my house in _August_?”

“As deputy headmistress, one of my tasks is to assist those students who do not have a wizarding relative. I am here today to escort Serafina to London, where we will buy her school supplies.”

“And how are you going to pay for these things? Did you take the grocery money?” he accused Serafina, forgetting to keep his voice down.

“ _Daddy_ ,” moaned the younger girl and, at once, the blustering bully leant over to kiss the top of her head.

“Of course I didn't, Dad,” sighed his elder daughter as though such an accusation was an everyday occurrence. “There was... My mother left some money–“ Aurora was struck by how Serafina seemed to be implying that Millie Calvert was nothing to either of the other two but this thought was soon driven out of her mind by the glare that Thomas Warner was giving his eldest daughter.

“Miss Warner does, in fact, have an account at Gringotts, the wizarding bank.”

“How's that?” demanded the girl's father, accurately guessing that his wife had kept some of her money out of his hands.

“Following the death of her grandfather, she inherited some funds and chattels as well as her mother's checking account..” Mr Warner nodded, the suspicious look still in his eyes.

"Would…  _that_ cover her blinking school fees too?”

“It will, sir.”

“To the best of my knowledge and belief, those funds should cover all of her school fees.”

“I see,” replied Mr Warner, looking down at his younger daughter's golden head. “Well?! Go put your thundering shoes and socks on, Serafina. Don't keep your professor waiting; not now she's blinking well here.” The girl scuttled out into the hallway and the deputy headmistress followed her, having no desire to spend any more time with that repellent man than absolutely necessary. As Serafina sat on the hallway carpet to pull on her knee-high grey socks and black wedge shoes, Aurora saw her as a child for the first time. Sitting on the floor with her legs spread out (despite the fact she was wearing a skirt), Serafina Warner looked like a vulnerable little girl and not the beleaguered young woman she had appeared while dealing with her father. Aurora wondered if it might be necessary to make the girl a ward of the school but decided to leave that to Fudge's discretion.

“I'm just gonna go get my letter, professor,” Serafina said with a smile before scrambling to her feet and re-entering the room she had emerged from upon Aurora's arrival and the deputy-headmistress followed her. The room turned out to be a study luxuriously furnished; Aurora's eye was drawn to a Karabakh carpet in front of the five-foot fireplace with a neoclassical surround of blue-veined Sienna marble. Unlike the rest of the house that she had seen, Aurora could have identified this room as belonging to a pure-blood witch or wizard even if she had not known beforehand. As well as the rich and ancient furnishings, there was an oblong window cut into the exterior wall with an in-tray beneath it and perch to one side and she had felt the brush of magical enchantments as she entered.

“Uh, um… I'm s-sorry. It's just– no-no-one's ever… come in here. Only me and my mother.” Aurora gave the girl an encouraging smile and was about to explain, when Serafina continued. "Can you– I mean… I was wondering if you could make the fireplace… work?”

“What do you mean, my dear? It seems to be drawing fine.”

“I meant– When my mother was alive, people used to travel through the fireplace, like my grandparents.” The girl smiled sadly and Aurora remembered what Filius had told her at breakfast – that Serafina's grandfather had died only 18 months after his famous daughter and no-one in the wizarding world had heard any news of the girl since. Aurora stepped onto that magnificent hearth-rug and scanned the mantelpiece for a container of Floo powder. Almost immediately, she spotted an ivory-inlaid, silver snuff-box jammed beneath the frame of a Canaletto-style landscape. As soon as Aurora slid it free of the picture-frame, the lid of the antique snuff-box sprang open to reveal a heap of the glittering silver powder. As she extended the box towards Serafina, Aurora wondered why Ms Calvert hadn't fixed its spring but then she caught sight of the TE stamp on the back and everyone knew that one does not mess with true craftsmanship. “What does this powder do?” asked the girl, an expression of inquisitive attention illuminating her face.

“You take a pinch and throw it on the fire. When the flames turn green, you enter the fire. Must say very clearly your destination or you will arrive where you do not want.”

“Are we going to use this to get to London?”

“Yes, I think that be best way to travel.”

“Well, I should probably go say goodbye to Dad. He would be upset if I didn't say goodbye properly.” Serafina sounded reluctant and Aurora could understand her desire to avoid that man's company but she also agreed that the girl shouldn't do anything to upset him unnecessarily. She dismissed her new student with a nod and Serafina left the room, swiftly and silently. Aurora looked around the room and found herself wondering how many of Millicent Calvert's best-selling were written at that desk and as to whether she had left notes for future works. “I'm ready to go,” Serafina informed her in a low voice, re-entering the room. Aurora was surprised that she had returned so soon as she had not heard voices.

“Very well,” she intoned, her supply of pleasantries exhausted in the face of venturing into Diagon Alley on the busiest day of the year. She held out the snuff-box to Serafina and the girl took a pinch of the Floo powder.

“Where in London are we going, professor?” she asked, politely enough but Aurora detected a sad edge.

“The _Leaky_ Cauldron,” enunciated Professor Sinistra in response. Serafina nodded, to show she understood, and then stepped past her new teacher to the fender. However, when she threw in the Floo powder, the flames did not turn green but briefly flashed violet. “It would seem that you have been disconnected from the Floo network. Don't worry, I'll take you to the Ministry while we are in London. As for now...” The professor squeezed shut the box in her hand and slid it back into its original position. “We must use another method of transport.” The pair left the study and Serafina went ahead to get the door, she turned the catch and the handle slowly, so that neither one squeaked. Once they were out on the pavement, Professor Sinistra threw out her left arm as though to flag down a bus. Within a few moments, a purple triple-decker bus appeared with a bang. The bus had not quite come to a halt before the forward door opened to disgorge a uniformed conductor, who began on a prepared speech but Sinistra simply swept past him, saying: “Two to The Leaky Cauldron, Mr Finch-Fletchly.” The young man bowed and shepherded the pair to twin green armchairs at the back of the bottom floor, where he vended their tickets for 24 Sickles before scuttling off to join the driver. The teacher didn't say anything during the 40-minute journey – if Serafina had looked carefully, she would have seen that her companion's eyes were closed and her lips were moving in a constant mantra – but it didn't matter as Serafina was absorbed in watching the ever-changing countryside.

 

When the bus finally set them down outside a London record shop, Professor Sinistra pulled her charge straight into the shabby little pub that abutted it and called to the bar-tender for two cups of tea with a scone each.

“I guess you took the Knight Bus, Aurora,” interposed Professor Morris, offering her a warm smile.

“Yes,” she snapped, feeling nauseous, despite the litany of Hail Marys.

"Come and sit with us,“ prompted her junior colleague, gently taking Aurora by the elbow and catching the girl's eye. Morris led them to a table in the corner where another first-year was sitting with a tankard of butter-beer in front of him.

"This is James Ryder – he's also new this year – and I'm Matthew Morris, head of Gryffindor House and the transfiguration professor. What's your name?"

“Serafina Warner,” answered the girl, not raising her eyes from the table-top.

“Millie Calvert's g– daughter?” asked the young man, blinking in mild surprise. Aurora nodded, giving a groan of discomfort at the renewed disturbance to her inner-ear balance.

“Her name in the muggle world was Harriet Warner,” Serafina told them in a small, solemn voice.

“Yes but she did write as Millie Calvert,” Aurora snapped back. At that moment, the scantily-clad barmaid deposited a tea-tray on the table in front of her and the professor snatched up one of the cups and started to hastily sip the tea inside.

“She ain't the one what the theory book, is she?” demanded the boy as Serafina split one of the scones and started to butter it.

“She did write a–,” began the girl but Professor Morris was answered with a simple 'yes'. “How did you know?” The boy just gaped at her and held up his Hogwarts letter. Aurora watched a frown furl her charge's forehead as Serafina pulled a folded sheet from her coat pocket. Despite her pre-occupation with consuming her tea, Aurora noticed the girl's eyes widen in surprise as she read the list of set books.

“One of my mother's books is a set text for Hogwarts?” The girl was obviously dazed by this, which confused Morris and saddened Aurora.

“She's famous. Wrote easy-to-read books on magical theory, they're still very popular. Didn't you know?" queried the young professor. A slow shake of her head was the only answer the girl made as her eyes were fixed on the list in her lap. As the professors discussed in which order to tackle the shops and James slurped from his tankard, Serafina read the list in full.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

**UNIFORM**

 

_First-year students will require:_

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

 

_(Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags)_

 

**SET BOOKS**

 

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory Primer by Millicent Calvert

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander (6th ed.)

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard

 

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

 

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

 

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

 

GUARDIANS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

 

Once everyone had finished their refreshments, Professor Morris led the way through to a barren courtyard behind the inn. He pulled out a beautifully carved strip of black wood and used it to tap several bricks in the wall. The final brick he tapped thrice and then it vanished, leaving a hole from which bricks began to fold away. Within moments, they were stood on the threshold of a 12-foot archway that was wide enough for Professor Sinistra and the two children to walk through abreast. With James and Professor Morris going ahead to push a path through the crowd of shoppers, the party made their way up the twisting cobbled street that sloped slightly up towards their initial destination. Gringotts Bank rose above them like a temple to Commerce, sculpted from pure white quartz. On either side of the bronze double-doors stood two dwarfish men with long, hooked noses, who wore scarlet and gold uniforms and each had a sword hanging from their belts. The one on the right, bowed low to the deputy headmistress and waved a hand to cause the doors to open. The quartet passed through the opening into a hall that gleamed in white, black and brass. For anyone, like these two new students, who did not know better, the bank looked as though it had stood unchanged for over two centuries. When they reached the chief-cashier's desk, the occupant craned over the top and eyed the children warily.

“Professor Sinistra,” he rasped. “Professor Morris. The Hogwarts account, I presume?”

“Only for Professor Morris; I have Miss Warner's key here.”

“Warner… War- _ner_ … I am not familiar with that account.”

“I believe the account was inherited. It is number 819.” Trindle's reaction made it clear that he knew who owned _that_ account.

“So… Welcome to Gringotts, Miss Warner,” the tiny, white-haired banker said in a tone of obsequious hospitality that was quite unlike his usual air of thinly veiled condescension. “The chattels from your second account you inherited were successfully conveyed, after the transfer of ownership was verified and completed, to the one to which Professor Sinistra has so recently referred. If you would please be so good as to follow me, Miss Warner, professor. Reedfly! Show Professor Morris to the Hogwarts account." Aurora was surprised by the chief-cashier assisting them personally; he was known to only attend war-heroes, which Millicent Calvert had not been. She also did not understand his reference to two accounts. As he led them to a silver door – one of those that had stood at the entrance before 1998, if Aurora was any judge – Trindle spoke over his shoulder to the girl, who was following him closely. “Since the death of Millicent Calvert in March 2002, we have – on the second of every month or the next working day – forwarded the monies received as royalties on the sale of her many books received from her publishers into account 819. Do you wish us – the bank of Gringotts – to advise Messers Dworkin and Denning, who are the publishers of Madame Calvert's books, of the altered account number?” Serafina glanced over her shoulder at Aurora, nervously biting her lip.

“I think that would be the wisest of courses,” she advised the girl. “Is that why she has no contact to Floo?”

“Of course. I am sure that must have been most inconvenient, Miss Warner, but, after we – the bank – closed Madame Calvert's account, we received no instructions from your trustee that we should continue the payments. I am sorry to say that Madame Calvert's account is in debt to the Ministry for three months of connection to the Floo network as it was only after three of the customary monthly payments went unpaid – as that account no longer existed – that the Ministry's Floo operators lapsed the licence for 2 Leckhampton Road, Cheltenham. If you wish to have the licence re-instated, Miss Warner, one of our clerks can prepare the paperwork and then send it to your trustee for signing,” offered the chief-cashier, solicitously, and Serafina nodded with what looked like a fixed smile.

“Perhaps that would be best, Mr Trindle,” Aurora interjected and the goblin directed a withering glare at her. The chief-cashier unlocked the silver door with a stroke of his finger and, to Aurora's continuing surprise, the sloping passage beyond was finished in veined grey marble. Instead of whistling for a cart, Trindle ushered them into a miniature gilt carriage that stood waiting. To her further surprise, the trip down to the vaults did not cause Aurora any nausea, which she was very grateful for after her earlier trip on the Knight Bus. The carriage slowed gently as they approached vault 819 but still jolted slightly when it came to a halt. The chief-cashier helped Serafina to alight and then proceeded directly to the great metal door, leaving Aurora to extricate herself as best she could.

“The key to Miss Warner's vault, please, professor, if you would be so very good,” demanded Trindle in his customary legalistic manner. Aurora was both disconcerted and aggravated by the distinction being shown to her charge by such an influential personage as the chief-cashier of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. She had respected Millicent Calvert, as any academic would, but this child had done nothing to deserve such high regard as Trindle was showing her. When the key was turned, tendrils of cast-iron uncurled from eyes sunk into the hewn stone frame. Upon being so released, the door swung slightly open and Serafina slipped inside to push it open for the others. When they joined her, however, the girl was engrossed in a stack of paintings that rested against a Victorian leather sofa. “Those paintings were transferred from the account of Madame Calvert, who inherited them from Olivetta Maria Bianchi – the mother of the afore-mentioned lady – to whom they were bequeathed by the last Compte de Garonne,” intoned the chief-cashier.

“Do you mean to say that this is _not_ Ms  Calvert's vault?” demanded Professor Sinistra.

“Indeed not,” snapped Trindle and then, in answer to Serafina's curious look, he added: “Her vault was number 133. This vault formerly belonged to Professor McGonagall's predecessor as headteacher of Hogwarts, who inherited it from his mother.”

“Severus,” smiled Serafina. “I had forgotten.”

“You _knew_ about this, Miss Warner?” demanded her new teacher.

“I remember him coming to the house, when I was quite a little girl. And then, last summer, I found a copy of his will in my mother's desk.”

“So you are aware that the whole is held on trust by the headmaster of Hogwarts–“

“No,” frowned Serafina, interrupting the banker quite abruptly. "Severus made my mum my trustee."

“Yes but _her_ will stipulated that the whole was to pass into the care of the headmaster,” stated Trindle, coolly.

“Ah. I have not seen her will,” answered Serafina with a warm and apologetic smile.

“Miss Warner, I am _sure_ Professor Morris and Mr Ryder are waiting for us, so perhaps we could make your withdrawal,” interposed Professor Sinistra. The girl blinked at the stacks of gold and silver and turned to the chief-cashier.

“How much money do I have, sir?”

“The current amount of gold in this vault comes to 363,768 Galleons, 10 Sickles and 16 Knuts.”

“That sounds like an awful lot,” she giggled.

“Indeed, you are a very wealthy witch, Miss Warner,” Trindle assured her before bowing.

“I take it that means I can easily afford crystal phials and the best gloves, telescope and things?” The chief-cashier made another bow.

“Do not forget that you will have to pay fees to the school,” said Professor Sinistra, interposing again.

“You told my father that Hogwarts wouldn't cost anything,” exclaimed Serafina, shocked at her teacher's deception.

“No, I said that your wizarding funds would cover the fees.”

“Oh.” Serafina's face relaxed into a look of understanding.

“Regardless, Miss Warner, you are rich enough to have the best quality for all of your school supplies as well as paying your yearly fees,” Trindle rasped slowly, glaring at the older witch. “I suggest a withdrawal of one hundred and twenty galleons should cover your needs for today as well as leaving some funds for the coming year. You can, of course, request extra funds by owl post.” Professor Sinistra stared at the banker, neither her account nor the one belonging to the school could make withdrawals by post; as far as she was aware only the oldest accounts had that privilege.

“That doesn't sound like very much. When I started at Howell's last year, it cost Dad £320 and we weren't buying as much as we'll have to for Hogwarts.”

“Our money isn't like the muggle kind,” snapped Professor Sinistra. “A Galleon is worth almost _five_ of your muggle pounds.”

“Oh.” The girl's eyes grew big with understanding as she did the mental arithmetic. “How do Sickles and Nuts work?”

“They are _Knuts_ , Miss Warner,” reprimanded the teacher. “And I can explain that once we have rejoined the others.” Serafina nodded, ashamed of keeping Professor Morris and James waiting.

“Ah… right. Well, will that much money cover wizarding clothes too?” Serafina asked, looking down at the yellow t-shirt that had a cartoon face emblazoned upon it and knee-length navy skirt that she wore underneath a maroon duffle-coat with dissatisfaction.

“If you intend to visit Madame Malkin's, then the amount I have suggested would, indeed, be sufficient to equip you with an, ahem, entire trousseau,” Trindle assured her with a slight bow but Aurora thought she heard a hint of condescension in his voice.

“And if I wanted to go to Twilfit and Tattings instead?” asked Serafina, her voice full of innocent curiosity. The chief-cashier did not beam so much as his whole body exuded pleasure at the girl's suggestion.

“In that case–“

“Miss Warner!” objected the teacher, unable to contain herself further. “Mr Rider can't afford to buy school robes for himself at that establishment.”

“Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?” asked the girl with a look of earnest confusion. “It means Professor Morris and James won't have to hang around getting bored. My dad always gets bored when he takes my sister and me shopping for clothes.” Although she was smiling, Serafina was obviously upset at the thought of those shopping-trips. The resentment that had been building in Sinistra since Trindle greeted the girl almost entirely released as she remembered Thomas Warner's behaviour that morning. She nodded her assent and Trindle recommended a larger sum to which Serafina agreed. The chief-cashier made his way deeper into the vault to collect the requisite number of gold coins, while the girl moved to wait by the door. Soon, the three of them were back in the carriage and hurtling back towards the surface.

 

When they returned to the banking-hall, Professor Morris and James were still waiting for them. However, Serafina wondered if the boy had been about to relieve his boredom with some sort of prank as he was lingering next to a stack of scrolls in a manner similar to Alene had before she did something naughty. Professor Sinistra began apologising to her colleague, with a dark look at the girl, but he waved it aside, flashing a smile at Serafina behind the deputy headmistress' back.

“Shall we start with Ollivander's Wand Shop?” suggested Professor Morris before turning to the two students. “It is the most important purchase you will make.”

“Not your wedding-ring?” asked James, seeming to be genuinely curious and surprised.

“I was not aware we were buying you one of those today, Mr Ryder,” smiled the professor as he began to shepherd them out of the bank.

“Are you married, sir?” asked the boy over his shoulder as he passed out through the double-doors.

“As it happens, I'm not. However, I don't think it is appropriate to discuss it with you, Mr Ryder.”

“But _why_ aren't you married?” pursued the child, causing Serafina to grit her teeth and cringe.

“Acting contrary to a professor's instructions or wishes is not respectful, Mr Ryder. And, at Hogwarts, you will be punished for disrespect,” snapped Professor Sinistra. James turned wide, scared eyes on the deputy headmistress but his fellow student felt he should have expected that sort of response from a teacher. Once they were out beneath the canopy of dull-grey cloud, Sinistra strode ahead, leaving her colleague to guide the children to Ollivander's Wand Shop. Their entrance caused the well-built, silver-haired owner to look up from behind the desk.

“Good Lord!” he exclaimed as their eyes adjusted to the gloom of his shop and he blinked. “Is _this_ Serafina?”

“Sorry. Do I know you?” asked the confused pre-teen.

“Oh, no. I met you once. When you were a baby. But your mother… She was a family friend. And you look very like her.” The man spoke his sentences very quickly but compensated by pausing for several seconds in between. “I think you two will be wanting wands. Let me get the tapes.” He vanished through a puce-coloured curtain that hung behind the desk but soon reappeared with two silver tape-measures. “Now! Come forward. Which is your wand arm, Miss Warner?”

“I– I write with my right hand,” she said, slowly, looking at him with her head slightly on one side. “You remembered that my surname was different to the one my mother used.”

“We never forget people. Family trait. ” He pulled the measuring-tape from her shoulder down to the tip of her index-finger. The tape-measure continued taking measurements as the proprietor's attention turned to James. "Do you also favour your right hand?"

“I type with my left hand,” the boy answered defiantly, trying to capture some of the wand-maker's attention.

“That has nothing to do with magic,” frowned Mr Ollivander. “With which hand do you write?”

“I don't,” muttered the boy. “I always use the computer. I'm dyslexic.” The two professors looked at each other, Sinistra's expression suggested she was barely suppressing a groan.

“Do you draw?” queried the shop-owner.

“Oh, yes,” grinned the boy, perking up at once. “I use my right hand for that.” The older wizard nodded and set the second tape-measure to work.

“How is your father?” asked Professor Sinistra as the tape concluded taking Serafina's measurements by wrapping around her forehead, which tickled.

“Enjoying Staffordshire. Thank you,” he smiled before disappearing among towering shelves stacked so high with long, slim boxes that the top ones were pressing against the ceiling. Mr Ollivander returned with six boxes, which he deposited on the desk in order to snatch the tape-measure away from James' thigh. “Do sit,” he instructed the boy before vanishing again. “Your mother's wand was exceptional, Miss Warner,” Gilbert Ollivander said as he rounded the nearest shelf-unit, his arms loaded with eight boxes. “Perceptive, intuitive, independent and _fiercely_ loyal. Just like her. Very unusual for cedar to choose phoenix feather. It normally prefers dragon heartstring. Like this one.” He picked up the box on top of Serafina's pile and opened it. “Give it a wave, Miss Warner.” The girl took the wand gently, very aware of all the eyes upon her, and gave it a semi-circular swish. The stack of brown paper at the end of the desk exploded and the wand-maker grabbed the strip of wood away from her, while Professor Morris waved his own wand to return the paper to the desk. The next wand, made from alder and containing a unicorn hair, did absolutely nothing when Serafina gingerly gave it a flick. With the third one, she was able to make the brown paper float up towards the ceiling and they thought they had found the correct one until the papers suddenly dropped floor-wards again. “No matter,” smiled Mr Ollivander, taking the wand from her carefully. The next one had a dragon heartstring like the first one but was made from sycamore and was incredibly long. She hadn't even flicked this one before the proprietor had replaced it with the next, which had a phoenix feather like her mother's wand. As she lifted it from the paper, he asked whether she still had her mother's.

“I never saw her with one and it's not in her study,” Serafina shrugged before she drew the new wand along at shoulder-height, producing a trail of sluggish smoke.

“Never had her wand. My, my. Do you remember her doing magic?” asked Gilbert Ollivander as he retrieved the final wand from the pile on his desk.

“Oh, yes! She always used it to light the fires but she just used her hand. Like this.” Serafina demonstrated a swishing movement with her whole forearm, rather just her wrist.

“How fascinating. Using wandless magic for everything. How extraordinary.” When she clasped the handle of the next wand, energy sizzled up her arm and along the side of her throat. Serafina gasped involuntarily, drew her arm back so her upper-arm stood out straight from her shoulder and then waved the wand with a forward-flowing swish. Golden sparks flew from the end and burst like fireworks as the gentlemen clapped and Professor Sinistra smiled reluctantly. Thankfully, it did not take James as long to find his wand. It turned out that the third one he tried, which was made from yew and two unicorn hairs, was his magical partner. The two professors each handed over seven Galleons from the purses they were carrying before they all bid the elderly gentleman goodbye and escaped the gloom of his shop.

“We agreed we'd buy their uniforms next,” Morris reminded her. “I'm taking James to the second-hand robes shop. Are you and Miss Warner joining us?”

“No,” Serafina answered, swiftly, before shooting Aurora a nervous look. The deputy-headmistress slid the girl a hard sideways look but then her face relaxed into a smile,

“Miss Warner and I will be going at Twilfit and Tattings to buy her school robes,” Aurora informed him.

“I see. Well, we'll come and wait for you once we're done,” Morris offered and the party separated, the girl leading Aurora towards the bespoke millinery shop.

 

There were already two Hogwarts students sitting in the waiting-area with their mothers, when Professor Sinistra proceeded Serafina into the tailors. A shop-assistant left the young man she had been helping and his mother to inspect the rich-cotton robes she had just helped him into in order to greet the newly arrived customers.

“Professor Sinistra! We do not often see you in here. Perhaps we can furnish you with a set of new dress robes for the Halloween Ball?” trilled Constance or Sabrina or Tricia, Aurora really could not remember the girl's name, although she remembered she had been in Hufflepuff and had left four years ago.

“I am actually here accompanying Miss Warner,” answered the teacher smartly.

“Oh, really,” grinned the assistant before she turned to the girl. Her smile froze as she took in Serafina's apparel; underneath her school duffle coat, she wore a yellow t-shirt with a cartoon face upon it, a knee-length navy skirt, no tights and shiny black leather sandals.

“I need more than just school robes,” Serafina said with an expression which suggested she didn't think much of her current outfit either.

“You mean… a whole new wardrobe.” The assistant's eyes lit up with the thought of all that gold.

“No,” smiled the girl sadly, sensing her chaperone was about to interject. “Only for school. There's no point getting robes for home.”

“Are you a _muggle-born_?” asked the shop-assistant, rather shocked.

“No but my father's a muggle and he doesn't like magic, not since Severus died.”

“Do you mean… Severus _Snape_?” asked the young woman, having dropped her voice to pronounce the name.

“Yes,” smiled the 11-year-old, not picking up on the assistant's reluctance to say the name out loud. “He was my mother's cousin.”

“And who _is_ your mother?” pursued the representative of Twilfit and Tattings, who had a high standard of who could frequent their shop.

“She… uh, died. But her name was… Millicent Calvert.” Aurora had to admit herself impressed at how quickly Serafina had become comfortable with using her mother's maiden name.

“ _You_ are Millie's gel?” asked a short but stately brunette woman, standing from her place in the waiting-area. The shop-girl nodded to herself and then returned to the Keebles.

“Madam Dirconey,” said the deputy headmistress with a thin smile. “This is Serafina Warner.”

“Of course!” cried the woman in delight, coming forward to face the girl. “I have not seen you since you were two-years-old. You do rather look like dear Millie,” gushed the matriarch.

“You knew my mother?” asked the girl, hope bubbling in her voice and eyes.

“Oh, yes. Not at Hogwarts – no, my sister was the one in the same year – but Philomena is only six months older than you. So – after you were born, of course – Millie and I spent quite a bit of time together. But do come meet Philomena.” The lady took Serafina by the wrist and steered her over to the chair beside a sullen-looking girl with dirty-blonde hair. “Philomena, dear. This is Serafina Warner, Millie Calvert's gel. She's starting Hogwarts this year.”

“Sorry,” said the older girl with a wide, bright smile. “I have no idea _who_ Mummy means by 'Millie Calvert' but it is absolutely lovely to meet you, Serafina. I'm a second-year at Hogwarts and everyone calls me 'Mina', apart from Mummy.” The girl turned an affectionate smile on her mother before swivelling back to face her new acquaintance.

“ _You_ remember Millie. She was Aunt Theodora's friend who wrote the books. You and Serafina used to play together when you were babies,” prompted Mrs Dirconey.

“Oh, gosh. The one who wrote the theory primer?” Serafina nodded and Mina gushed for quite three minutes about how much she had loved her theory book in first year before Serafina managed to say that she hadn't yet read it. The younger girl then asked why a second-year needed to be buying robes at all. “Well! We thought I'd get into Ravenclaw, like Aunt Theodora and your mother, but I was sorted into Slytherin instead. I mean, I absolutely adore it, I get on with almost everyone, but it means that I'm stuck with heaps of bronze and blue robes which look rather silly now.”

“Couldn't you just change the colour?”

“Not with Tattings' robes. If they had been Malkin's, Mummy might have risked it but you don't want to interfere with the magic of true craftsmanship.” Serafina nodded, her Howell's uniform had come from tailors' whose work you didn't fiddle with unless you wanted to ruin it. “So, which house do _you_ want to join?”

“Well, I know my mother was in Ravenclaw but her father, brother and cousin were all in Slytherin, so that's where I'd like to be.”

“Oh!” Mina clapped her hands in excitement. “That would be wonderful. You _must_ sit with me and my friends on the train up to Hogwarts; we're all second- and third-year Slytherins.” As they finished speaking, one of the other shop-girls showed a fierce-looking man and a young woman who had to be his daughter to the door. The assistant then approached the two girls in the waiting-area.

“Miss Warner, Mademoiselle Twilfit will be with you in a moment. Miss Dirconey, would you care to follow me?” Mina, like her mother and the professor, just stared at the girl, however.

“The proprietress is going to serve her?” asked Mrs Dirconey, faintly.

“Oh, no,” smirked the shop-assistant. “ _Mademoiselle_ Twilfit is Madame's niece. She is working here in the hope that Madame will leave her the shop.” Just then, a dumpy woman in her forties with waist-length blonde hair, who was wearing pale-blue robes, stumbled through the curtain that hid the back-room. “Here she is now. Miss Dirconey, please come with me.” Mina smiled at Serafina and then she and her mother went with the shop-girl. Serafina stood up and smiled at the approaching blonde.

“Miss Warner?” asked Miss Twilfit, uncertainly.

“That is correct, mademoiselle,” the girl sweet smiled.

“Oh… er, call me 'Jeanie' and, um, I'm not actually French, it's–“

“A fashion convention.” Serafina was still smiling but it was no longer sweet in any way. She sincerely doubted if this woman had ever been to Milan in the spring and did not feel like being patronised by anyone else today. “I do realise that, which is why I didn't actually address you in French.” Aurora was taken aback and annoyed to find Serafina suddenly behaving as quite the little madam again. She wondered if this was how she always treated people she thought of as inferior. Miss Twilfit certainly didn't know how to respond, she obviously hadn't been working there long, so just mumbled an instruction for the two witches to follow her.

“Sabrina said you wanted more than just school robes,” prompted Miss Twilfit once Serafina was stood in front of the mirror.

“Of course. I have not grown up as a witch, so I have only muggle clothes and that won't do for down-time at Hogwarts.” Miss Twilfit nodded and twittered and then disappeared to fetch some samples. She came back with two distinct piles floating in front of her. One was all black and was evidently made-up robes in various styles, the other was metre-lengths of myriad colours. Serafina waited for Miss Twilfit to deposit the two piles, side-by-side on a nearby table, before she turned to Professor Sinistra. “Don't you think we should start with the uniform robes, professor?” The teacher gave a nod and the fashion witch magicked four of the style robes onto hangers to the right of the mirror.

“I didn't know you sold different styles of the uniform,” said the deputy headmistress shrewdly, almost accusingly.

“Oh, yes! Many students like to show a little of their own personality in their uniform.” It was evident Miss Twilfit had missed the professor's displeasure. Serafina had heard Professor Sinistra's tone but still wanted the best style, rather than the correct one.

“I, uh, ran into a friend out front – Mina Dirconey – do you know which one she got?” Aurora was again surprised at the girl's ability to assimilate. She had only just met the Dirconey girl but was already dropping her name and indicating a certain intimacy by using her preferred version of her Christian name. Aurora was beginning to suspect that Miss Warner was a consummate actor and it would be very difficult to know what was true with her. Whilst she had been musing, Miss Twilfit had summoned a ledger.

“Miss Dirconey chose this one,” she said, picking out the third of the hanging designs. “If you take off your outer layer, Miss Warner, it should fit over your current clothes.” Serafina took off her coat, folded it in half and draped it neatly over the spindly basket-chair that Professor Sinistra should have been occupying. She then took the robe from Miss Twilfit and pulled it over her head. The robe was very high-waisted and the sleeves were fluted; the top of each sleeve came to a point at the knuckle of her middle finger. Serafina quickly realised that the sleeves would be very inconvenient, if not rolled back, and she had no desire to reveal her forearms.

“Do you have anything with smaller sleeves?” she asked the assisting witch.

“Yes. This one is quite popular with students who take potions at N.E.W.T.,” smiled Miss Twilfit, pulling the first robe off its hanger. Serafina struggled out of the robe and exchanged it for the next. This one went on like a coat and overlapped at the front with a cord that passed around the top of her hips. The sleeves were tight tubes that stopped half an inch before the heel of her hand. However, the robe gaped quite widely at the neck, which she might want once she hit puberty but would simply leave her freezing in the dungeons.

“Is there one that, um, pulls over the top with similar sleeves?”

“Well… we _do_ … but it isn't one of the school styles,” mumbled Miss Twilfit.

“Can I please see it, mademoiselle?” asked Serafina with a forced smile to cover her exasperation. She unfastened the robe as Miss Twilfit dug through the mass of black for the style of which she was thinking. However, Serafina found herself stuck, when it came to removing herself from the sleeves. After watching her struggle for a minute, Professor Sinistra took pity on her and pulled the right cuff. The girl was soon disentangled and pulling on the next one, which had a high, flat neckline. The sleeves on this robe were also tubular but hung down about an inch from her arm. The sleeves also had black crape cuffs that extended to the base of her thumb but these could easily be tucked inside the sleeves. The whole was rather billowy and undefined but Miss Twilfit suggested the use of a black ribbon, tied around her waist. When she demonstrated this, the robe turned into a flowing, flared skirt and a slightly taut blouse. Serafina asked for three of these and then decided to look at fabrics for the first style she had tried. Miss Twilfit persuaded her to don it again and then asked which colour the customer would prefer. The girl wanted to try a dark green, so the fashion witch brought over five shades, ranging from jade to forest green. She liked the jade but didn't think it would work with this design, so she chose a shade similar to the colour of lush grass. Miss Twilfit muttered a spell which made the robe in the mirror change into the colour desired. Serafina was so taken aback that she stumbled backwards and almost tripped on the trailing robe. However, once she righted herself, she soon saw that the colour was far too dark for something that covered so much skin. “Maybe I need a lighter colour.”

“We have silk in both mint and fern greens,” suggested Miss Twilfit but the girl stared at her as though she were mad.

“Uh, no. Maybe a light purple.” The assisting witch nodded and brought several shades of that colour. Serafina decided on a lavender silk and, when she saw that worked, she was persuaded to add burgundy embroidery. She settled on three further designs, each in a different colour, before viewing the range of cloaks. The one she finally decided to buy was made from wool and lined with Pogrebin hair.

 

Professor Sinistra was more than relieved when Miss Warner finally conceded herself appropriately outfitted. Although they had only bought four sets of robes and a cloak, it had felt like a terrible ordeal to the thoroughly unfashioned Aurora. When they returned to the reception area, in order to pay for Serafina's purchases, they found Professor Morris and James Ryder sitting in the waiting-area. Once they had completed the transaction, the girl ran over and started to apologise but the professor told her that there had been a big queue in the second-hand shop, so they had been waiting less than five minutes.

“James wants to get a kitten, so I said we'd go to the Menagerie next,” said Professor Morris as his colleague joined them.

“Uh, Professor Sinistra, did you leave the robes at the desk?” Serafina cautiously asked, when she noticed the woman wasn't carrying anything.

“ _No_ , they are in my pockets,” she was told smartly. “Shall we go?” They trickled out in a single file with the two children at the back but, once out in the street, James went running off ahead. As Professor Morris shouted for him to come back, Serafina shrank back into her shell and kept within the deputy headmistress' shadow.

The first thing that hit Serafina upon entering the Magical Menagerie was the noise or, more to point, noises. She couldn't see a single scrap of wall, due to all the cages, and it was very cramped with seven customers present. There was a pair of sandy-haired boys, who looked to be about nine, standing with their noses pressed against a cage of rats on the desk. A man who looked like he might be their father was trying to have a conversation with the proprietress.

“Come on, boys,” sighed the man as the witch shook her head in a way that suggested it was not the first time. “Professor Sinistra!”

“Michael Donnhoff,” smiled the teacher, recognising one of her most promising students.

“I can't believe you remember me,” grinned Mr Donnhoff. “It's not like I've ever come to any of the alumni events. These are my boys, Solomon and Sebastian; they're starting this year.”

“As are Miss Warner and Mr Ryder,” said the professor, indicating the two charges.

“No parents to take you shopping?” Mr Donnhoff asked sympathetically, while his sons wandered off to poke at cages.

“My parents are muggles and they couldn't get time off work,” piped up James, looking wistfully over at the other boys.

“Are you also a muggle-born, Miss Warner?” smiled the gentleman, kindly.

“No. My mother was a witch but she died when I was six.”

“Solomon and Sebastian lost their mother two years ago.” The tears were clear in Mr Donnhoff's voice, in a way that Serafina could not remember ever hearing from her own father. “We must be going; I'm getting the boys an owl each and then we still need to visit Madam Malkin's, the queue was terrible earlier.” The adults made their goodbyes and James was detached from the Donnhoff twins.

“Can I help you, professors?” wheezed the witch behind the counter.

“Mr Ryder would like a kitten to take with him to Hogwarts.”

“Have you had a pet before, mister?” asked the witch, giving James a shrewd look. He nodded vigorously.

“We've got four cats at home but Mum and Dad had Chloe fixed, she's the only girl. I couldn't take an adult cat, it wouldn't like it.” The proprietress gave him a broad grin, revealing yellow teeth.

“You want them cages there,” she grunted, pointing to the wall on her right. “What about you, miss? Do you want a fluffy kitty?” Serafina shook her head and retreated behind Professor Sinistra again.

“I've never had a pet,” she whispered.

“What? Not even a Puffskein?” The girl shook her head again before adding:

“Dad got Alene a rabbit for her birthday, because she was 5, and I've been helping her look after it since I got back from school. But that's not even a week.”

“Come here, dear,” wheezed the witch, kindly. Serafina stepped up to the counter very tentatively. “Skittish little thing, ain't ya?” The girl smiled shakily and it made the proprietress grin. “You want something more confident than you. Friendly and affectionate, that's the thing. I know! You want a Manx or a Fold. Lemme get the cages down.” The witch lifted a part of the counter and bustled over to where James was peering into cages. She took out her wand and tapped first one cage and then another. The two cages slid smoothly out of their places in the wall and settled themselves gently on the desk. “Now, let me look at you.” The proprietress squinted at Serafina through the gloom of the shop. “People think personality only matters when it comes to wands. Fiddlesticks!” she gasped. “A cat's just as a-tuned to people as any phoenix. Now, you look clever to me, is that true?” Serafina nodded mutely. “So, you aren't going to just want a furry hot-water bottle. Neither do ya want a clown tha'll be forever breaking things, not wid you being so skittish. Whatcha want is something that's inquisitive, something tha'll keep you on yer toes long after you've both left Hogwarts.” The girl blinked at this onslaught of information, especially as she found it difficult to understand the woman's husky voice. The witch turned back to the desk and peered at each cage in turn. She was just straightening again, when James turned around and said:

“I know what one I want.” The proprietress smiled and went to help him.

“What one was it?”

“The little ginger one,” he said, excitedly pointing into the cage next to one of the gaps.

“The Maine Coon runt. She'll be very affectionate; rely on you for everything 'til she's grown, though. Looks like just a ball of fur now as though one good puff'd blow her away.” She stumped back behind the desk and pulled a small, loosely woven crate from the shelf underneath. “Now, for you,” the witch said, briefly fixing Serafina with a look. The woman dipped into the cage to her left and carefully removed a silver kitten with black stripes and tucked-in ears. “Hold out your hands. Come on, she won't bite ya.” Almost mechanically, the girl held out her hands, more from not wanting to appear rude than from an desire to touch the little animal. Once it was on her hands, however, the little creature stomped its front paws into her palms, which made her giggle. The proprietress nodded approvingly. “She's a Scottish Fold, see the ears?” Serafina could currently only see one ear as the kitten was stroking the side of its face against her thumb.

“What colour do you call her fur?” she curiously inquired.

“She's a _silver_ tabby,” explained the witch. “So, will you take her?”

“Um,” began Serafina, looking up with fear in her eyes. “Is there… Is there anyway she could… go straight to Hogwarts?”

“Don't you want to take her home?” asked Professor Morris with an unclouded smile.

“Y-yes but m-my father… h-he wouldn't be h-happy, if he knew I had a cat. And huh he wouldn't let it in the house, n-not with Jas-mine, Alene's r-rab-abbit,” stuttered Serafina, jumping at the sound of the bell over the door going as she came to the rabbit's name. The poor kitten dug her tiny claws into Serafina's hands to stop being dropped. Morris quickly plucked the animal from her and handed it back to the witch behind the desk.

“What about your school holidays?” asked the proprietress.

“You're right,” said the girl, working hard to keep from crying in front of so many strangers. “I shouldn't have thought about buying a cat, it wouldn't be fair.” The witch looked at this girl sadly; it was obvious she needed some affection without attached strings. However, she knew this kitten would need constant companionship.

“I'm sure Miss Henive – that's the school librarian – would take care of her during the holidays; she has a cinnamon Shorthair,” suggested Professor Morris. The veterinary witch grinned broadly again.

“I can have my assistant bring her, and everything you need to look after her, to King's Cross.” Serafina fell over herself to thank the witch but they soon had everything cleared up. James exited with the crate under his arm, while the bag of cat-food was shrunk into Professor Morris' pocket.

 

Their next stop was at Wiseacre's, where each student bought a telescope (under Professor Sinistra's direction as to the better brand), brass scales, gloves and a trunk. Although they were buying exactly the same for all these items, Serafina's came off the shelves at the front of the shop, while James had to choose his from the pre-owned stock kept beside the counter. The one thing that James did have to buy fresh were the glass phials for potions but Serafina again out-classed him by buying ones made from crystal.  
They went to the apothecary's shop next, where each student bought the basic potions kit. Serafina, at this point, produced a list of additional ingredients. The apothecary read over this list without even a raised eyebrow and efficiently fulfilled the requests; they were all standard medicinal herbs. The professors, however, exchanged curious glances.  
Their final stop before they ventured into the packed bookshop was Potage's Cauldron Shop. It took Professor Morris almost twenty minutes to find James a sound, second-hand pewter cauldron. On the other hand, Serafina's cauldron was soon in Professor Sinistra's pocket.

Upon entering Flourish and Blotts, Professor Morris led James at once to the staircase as the pre-owned books were housed on the second floor. Serafina and Professor Sinistra, on the other hand, had to work their way around clusters of customers in an attempt to collect all the set textbooks. By the time they were finished, however, the other two had still not returned.

“Professor Sinistra,” began Serafina, tentatively. “Can I go back to the history section, until James and Professor Morris are done? There were a couple of books I was thinking about buying for fun.” Despite her misgivings about this particular girl, the deputy headmistress approved of students who read academically for pleasure. She gave a brief nod and Serafina went at once, for fear of the professor changing her mind. She went straight to where they had picked up Bathilda Bagshot's textbook earlier. On the shelf below was a row of cloth-bound books with 'Calvert's History of Magical Theory' embossed on the spine. Serafina slid one of these out from among its fellows and turned it over to read the cover. Beneath the title were the words 'edited by Penelope Clearwater' and, underneath that, '2nd ed. '. The girl was wondering who this woman was and why her mother's book needed editing in the five years since her death, when her thoughts were interrupted by a condescendingly amused male voice.

“I think you're a little young for that book.”

“What do you mean? It's only a textbook.”

“Yes, for an N.E.W.T. student like me,” said the young man, pulling the book out of her hands. “Wait. I recognise _you_. You were talking to the Dirconey girl in Tattings.”

“I don't remember seeing you,” she said, glaring at the book which was now tucked under his arm.

“That was probably because I was sat behind you,” he sneered. “Didn't you say your mother was someone famous?”

“Yeah. Millicent Calvert.”

“Oh, so _that's_ why you wanted the book. I apologise.” The young man pulled the book out from under his arm and proffered it to her. “However, if you simply wanted to read one of your mother's books, I'd recommend her one on wandlore. It's very interesting and a lot easier to read.”

“Thank you… Uh, I don't know your name.”

“Sorry. I'm Francis Gamp. And your name is?”

“Serafina Warner.”

“Nice to meet you. Do you _want_ the book?”

“No, thank you, Mr Gamp. I'll get the wandlore one, thanks.”

“Please call me 'Francis'. Which year are you in? I'm guessing you must be a third-year as I've never seen you with Lettie – that's my younger sister, she's about to start her second year.”

“Actually, I'm only just starting at Hogwarts,” she said, glancing down at her clothes self-consciously.

“You mean, you're a first-year?! You look too old.”

“I'm turning 12 in November.”

“That would explain it.” It looked as though he was just going to leave, when he caught sight of the bookshelf behind her again. “Tell me, Serafina, do you like history or was it just because the book had your mother's name on it?”

“No! I love history!”

“Then I would suggest you buy a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_. The latest edition has a foreword by  Penelope Clearwater – she's the leading contemporary historian – and covers all of the second war against Voldemort. It even includes Professor Fudge's first year as headmaster, which also happened to be my first year. Anyway, I must go; my mother and Lettie will be wondering where I've got to. I'll have my sister look out for you on the train.”

“Thank you but Mina has already said I can sit with her and her friends.”

“So you'll meet Lettie anyway. Well, goodbye.”

“Maybe I'll see you at school, Francis.”

“Depends which house you're in,” he told her, haughtily.

“I'm hoping for Slytherin, like my grandfather and uncle.”

“Then maybe I _will_ see you at meals. Goodbye, Serafina.” Francis nodded to her and left. The girl turned around and reached up to the shelf three above her mother's textbook. She pulled down one of the leather-bound volumes that was over 650 pages long and at the bottom of the front cover was embossed '10 th Edition'. Serafina then went to look for a shop-assistant to ask after the other book that the young man had suggested. She was back with Professor Sinistra before the others came back downstairs.

“Sorry for holding you up but it's even busier up there,” said Morris with a rueful smile. Professor Sinistra nodded but said nothing before turning for the door. They managed to escape through the throng milling around the cashiers' counter to the street full of those starting to turn for home. The group made their way back into the Leaky Cauldron, where Professor Morris caught his colleague's sleeve. “I could take them both back, so you don't have to get on the Knight Bus.”

“Thank you for the offer but I think I should go. Her father would not take it favourably, if anyone else returned with her.” The other teacher nodded and turned his attention to shepherding the two children out onto the pavement. It was twenty to five and muggles were scurrying about between shops, almost bumping into them. Professor Sinistra stepped up to the curb and flagged down the Knight Bus again. Each professor paid the conductor for two tickets and they made their way to where Serafina and the deputy headmistress had sat that morning. Professor Sinistra took her previous seat but the girl let Professor Morris take the other armchair. It was half an hour before they stopped outside James' home in North Yorkshire but it was only another ten minutes after that until before bus halted again and Serafina and Professor Sinistra got down. When she opened the front door, the girl heard the sounds of her father and sister eating dinner.

“Hello, Dad,” she called, careful not to be too loud. The pair on the door-step heard the grunt of a chair moving against the parquet flooring of the dining-room and then the footsteps of a man carried Thomas Warner around the base of the staircase.

“I see you're back already. I didn't expect you back for dinner, so I didn't make you any.” The man's tone was almost apologetic but his words were matter-of-fact and his eyes were indifferent.

“That's OK,” his daughter answered quickly. “I'll get myself something.” Thomas nodded and then looked at the professor looming in his doorway.

“Is _she_ staying for dinner?”

“No,” the deputy headmistress told him smartly. “I am going to bring in her shopping and then I'll go. Thank you.” Thomas Warner nodded again and disappeared back to his meal. Serafina hung up her coat and took off her sandals before leading Professor Sinistra into her mother's study once more. The teacher pulled all of the purchases out of her pockets and resized them. She then waved her wand and everything packed itself into the trunk. “Here is your ticket. The Hogwarts Express leaves King's Cross station at 11 o'clock on 1st September. As you have to collect your cat, I would suggest that you get there early. I will see you when you get to Hogwarts. Goodbye, Miss Warner. “

“Farewell, Professor Sinistra,” Serafina smiled and waved her off from the door-step.

 


End file.
